Midnight Shift
by Dan Sickles
Summary: Ever wonder what Nate thinks about Andy working late with Miranda night after night? Well, here's the answer - sexy, touching and of course very romantic. It's also a tribute to the late great Buddy Holly!


MIDNIGHT SHIFT

_This is Nate's story, with a little help from the late great Buddy Holly. Of course I do not own any of these enchanting characters. Please comment nicely!_

"Everything about me is just . . . old news." Nate sighed as he sliced up the bell peppers and onions. There was a time when Andy really loved his Philly cheese steak sandwiches. There was a time when she rushed home early to eat with him. But these days his warm, caring and fantastically beautiful girl friend was always busy. Thanks to the insane demands of fashion diva Miranda Priestley, these days Andy Sachs was practically working the midnight shift. Suddenly an old rock and roll tease started twanging in Nate's head. _If Andy pins her hair up on her head . . ._

"Yeah. Now there's a song that's right up to the minute." The dedicated young chef laughed sadly to himself as he loaded up a plate with greasy food and headed over to his favorite, battered easy chair – the one Andy had helped him steal off the street three years back. Hard to believe that in those days dark-eyed Andy Sachs was up for just riding around in his uncle's truck, looking for junk. Of course, in those days Andy dressed like he did, in jeans and sweaters. Now she was like a different person. She was new, exciting . . . the perfect woman. Only she was perfect for someone else.

Nate had to laugh when he thought about how shabby and out of date he was compared to the people Andy met at _Runway_ magazine. Outside the kitchen, he was strictly Joe Average. He didn't know Calvin Klein from Calvin Coolidge. Hell, he didn't always shave. His idea of entertainment was a ball game and a beer. His idea of literature was the New York Post. And his idea of music was rock and roll. Old rock and roll, like Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly. The stuff he liked best hadn't changed in fifty years. It wasn't just vulgar, these days it was practically forgotten. Just like him.

There was no use kidding himself, Nate thought, putting aside his empty plate and leaning back in his comfortable chair. Andy was sweet and loyal, but sooner or later she'd meet a guy who could keep up with her in fashion circles. Some guy with tons of money, and the latest clothes, and a sports car, and an incredibly hot body who loved buying her stuff . . .

"Hey, baby." Andy was kissing him softly on the forehead.

"Huh." Nate sat up and blinked, surprised at how out of it he'd been. "What time is it?" he asked, stretching.

"It's ridiculously late – past one o'clock in the morning!" Andy was wolfing down the Philly cheese steak he'd saved for her. "I have to eat now – I haven't had anything all day. Miranda tore up everything Marc Jacobs sent her, and we ended up staying late and doing another run-through. I had to travel all over town looking for stuff she wouldn't hate. It was hell."

"You look fabulous," Nate said. Andy was wearing a black velvet gown by Chanel that practically fell off her body, showing off curves and a confident allure that hadn't been there just a few weeks ago. There was something else, too – a kind of glow that came over her, even when she was just bitching about Miranda.

Lately the rich and powerful older woman was all Andy ever talked about.

"So then I had to match the scarves to something from the first collection, and we'd already sent it back! But Miranda was giving me that look, you know, the one that just . . . that just turns me into jelly!"

"That's it," Nate said softly.

"What's it?" Andy grabbed a handful of paper napkins and wiped her lips, totally smearing her high-end Dior lipstick.

"It's Miranda Priestley that's got you hooked on this new job. She's the reason you're out late every single night!"

Andy's beautiful brown eyes flew open with astonishment. "Are you nuts, Nate? The woman's totally manipulative, totally unreasonable, totally insane . . ."

"Yeah, and you're totally obsessed with everything she says and does. You pick up on her tiniest gestures, and the way she looks at you makes you melt. You spend all your time dressing up to meet her expectations, to win her approval. And it's not about keeping your job. You hate the job. It's all about that look in her eyes."

Instead of getting angry, Andy just slumped in her chair. "God, I feel like such a traitor!" She carefully studied her open-toed Jimmy Choos. "I want this more than I've ever wanted anything in my whole life," she said. "I mean, when someone loves you for who you are, that's a great feeling. But when someone falls in love with what you could be, that's . . . _inspiring_ is the only word I can think of. Miranda inspires me." Andy looked up at him, her brown eyes clear and direct. "I don't understand her. There are times when I don't even like her. But she challenges me. Every day I end up doing more than I ever thought I could. That's exciting and . . . kind of addicting after a while." She flushed. "It's not just sex."

"I know." Nate took her hand and squeezed. "I trust your feelings about people, Andy. Miranda is special. Maybe your feelings for her will change what we have together. Or maybe it's just me that needs to change. But we'll deal with it, whatever happens."

"I love you, Nate." Those amazing brown eyes were so incredibly soft, especially when they were shining with tears. Andrea held out her arms to him, and they went to bed and made love very slowly and softly, with great tenderness.

"You're so gentle," she murmured after they were done. Andy was already falling asleep. She'd had a very hard day. "Don't ever change, Nate."

"I won't." They were curled up like spoons, her butt snug against his groin. Nate stroked her flat stomach with his broad hand, soothing her to total relaxation. "I'm here for you every night – whenever you finish the midnight shift."

"The midnight shift," Andy sighed, her eyes falling shut. "Like that."

"That's our song," Nate whispered. Very softly, he hummed a long-forgotten song into her ear. The words were sexy, knowing and slightly sad, a bittersweet mix of heartbreak and acceptance.

_If Annie pins her hair up on her head,_

_Paints her lips up bright, bright red_

_Wears that dress that fits real tight,_

_Starts staying out in the middle of the night,_

_Brother, then it ain't no ifs, _

_Annie's been a working on the midnight shift._

Andy had changed. Thanks to Miranda, she was a whole new person – not just sexier, but more alive. Nate loved that. But not everything in life was about change. So instead of worrying about what tomorrow would bring, the unshaven average guy cook just held Andy in his arms while she slept.


End file.
